


Blood And Bone

by Sylwynn_Rutherford



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-30 20:49:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11471427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylwynn_Rutherford/pseuds/Sylwynn_Rutherford
Summary: It's been five years since the Blight ended, though the nightmare of that time still lives in Alaren's heart. She was a Cousland through and through though, fighting for her people as her family had done through the Ages. Now, she's at risk of losing all she loves and holds dear at the hands of the Bastard King. Can peace be found between them? Only time will tell...





	1. Chapter 1

“Secure the gates! Man the battlements! Not _one_ of those bastard’s men is to get through, understood?” Alaren shouted.

She was skilled for a warrior of her age, being little more than twenty three. Her golden blonde hair was braided down her back and caked with blood from her last opponent. Her elvish looking eyes were large and penetrating, the deep green piercing to the soul. She stood nearly six feet in height, casting an imposing image to those who saw her. Her pale skin was dusted with nutmeg colored freckles over her cheeks, as though trying to remind the world she was still a young woman. Her body was lean and fit, evidence of years of rigorous training. Seeing the man approach, she turned her cold gaze to him.

“Teryna Cousland, the King will take your lands by force if you don’t back down! This is an act of treason!” the soldier retorted.

“Trust is a two way street, Ethan, and I don’t trust _that_ King as far as I could throw him!” she snapped, making her way to the main hall doors.

“But...”

“Did he come when we requested aid after the Blight? Or when the raiders came with their ships and tried to sack our ports in the hopes of plundering Highever? No! He _left_ us to fend for ourselves! I will _not_ answer his call or surrender my position just because _he_ feels slighted!” she retorted, turning to some of the men and women rushing from the Keep.

Giving them orders as they passed, she then moved off to the battlements. She was a skilled swordsman, efficient with both long swords as well as daggers for when she needed to get close. She’d practiced for years with her father and brother before they’d died, and stood with them both in defense of Highever when Arl Rendon Howe lay siege to her lands. They’d held off the darkspawn during the Blight five years previously, and she wasn’t about to back down from protecting her home from the King of Ferelden just because she refused to swear fealty to him. He was a bastard in Maric’s crown, a pretender who had no business ruling the nation. He was all that was left however, as the Hero of Ferelden had let him kill Teryn Loghain and banish his daughter, Queen Anora. She couldn’t _fault_ the woman though, as the man _had_ hunted her across their country.

Grabbing one of the bows from a woman on the wall, she dipped it in frostfire, a concoction made for them by one of the Tranquil that had found her way to Highever after the Circle fell. Taking aim at the battering ram below, she let it fly. Watching it impact on the beam, she smirked in satisfaction as it exploded, sending shards flying off in every direction. It was enough of a deterrent to the Ferelden army, many of which were losing faith in their commanders. Nodding to the men and women, she rushed back down to the courtyard, knowing they would use the frostfire to keep the ladders from reaching their walls.

The battle raged on into the night before everything went quiet. She knew the King was likely counting his losses, and preparing his forces for another assault come daybreak. Her own men were tired, but would continue to fight if that was what she asked of them. She was grateful that Highever Castle was as fortified as it was, else it would have likely fallen before now. As it was, they’d been at opposition with the King for the last few weeks, and she wondered how much longer either side would hold up. Obtaining supplies wasn’t a problem, as Highever sat near the Waking Sea, where ships bringing in cargo could slip in unnoticed, and return to the ocean before daybreak. Kirkwall was a great help in that respect, as she’d made a deal with a dwarf named Varric, who was a clever businessman eager to lend a hand to her cause. Knowing she had to do _something_ to tip the scales in their favor, she made her way back up to the battlements.

Looking down at the scene below, she noticed several small fires glowing softly in the night. The King’s men were resting now, awaiting the call to arms come first light, only an hour or so away. The King’s tent wasn’t far off, the massive canvas structure standing in stark contradiction to the treeline behind it. It was quiet, and didn’t appear to be heavily guarded. Chewing her lip a moment, she made a decision that would either seal her fate or grant her the time her men needed to regain their depleted energy.

Slipping silently from the castle, she picked her way through the King’s sleeping forces until she reached his tent. Spotting one of her own soldiers following behind her, she knew the woman was coming along to help her, no matter what it was she had gone to do. Motioning for her to keep watch, she carefully crawled under the tent from the side closest to the trees. Spotting the King laying on his oversized bed, she couldn’t keep the sneer from her face. Even in battle he had to have the finest of everything it seemed. Just more proof, as though she needed it, that he was a spoiled, pompous ass who thought everyone needed to bend to his will.

Creeping silently toward the head of the bed, she placed one hand over his mouth while the other pressed a dagger against his throat. Glaring down at him as he came suddenly awake, she met his gaze bitterly.

“Scream or give your men any indication that you’re in trouble and I’ll gut you from nose to nuts, understand?” she growled dangerously.

Watching him nod his head, she quickly bound his hands behind his back before hoisting him to his feet. Keeping the blade at his throat, she forced him out the back of his tent the way she’d come and through the trees. Picking her way slowly back to the castle, she called her troops to prepare for an assault from the King’s men once they realized he was missing. Dragging him up to the battlements, she called down to the troops below.

“I have your King! Stand down or I’ll return him to you in pieces!” she shouted, drawing the attention of those on guard to where she stood on the wall. “Tell them, your _majesty_. Tell them to back off.” she finished, growling as she looked over at him.

“Do what she says!” Alistair affirmed.

Smirking at her victory, she watched as his forces began gathering their gear to pull up stakes. Those that had been sleeping were awakened, some being jerked aggressively from their tents. Nodding as her own troops went out to enforce her command, she shoved the King back toward the stairs. She knew he was trying to figure out how to escape and return to his men, but was smart enough to do as she commanded for the time being. Taking him to the dungeons, she made him enter the smallest, most dank cell she could find.

“I hope you find the accommodations satisfactory, though I doubt they’re as spectacular as other cells you might have been in.” she said, bolting the door one he was inside. “Put your hands through and I’ll remove the ropes.”

Pulling him gruffly towards her as he did as she requested, she took satisfaction in seeing his face slammed into the bars as he collided with them. Taking her dagger from her belt, she slit the ropes that bound him, careful not to nick his precious skin. Letting him go, she stepped back from his cage.

“Who has the evil, nasty Cousland woman sent to torment me?” Alistair asked, rubbing his wrists as he too stepped away.

“Alaren... Alaren _Cousland_.” she retorted bitterly. “And unlike _you_ , I am _perfectly_ capable of fighting my own battles. You can’t even pull your boots on without someone holding your hand.”

“ _Everything_ sounds bad when you say it like that.” Alistair stated, meeting her green eyes levelly.

“If you were _half_ the man your father or brother were...” she snapped.

Turning on her heel, she left him staring after her. There would be much to do now, as she knew his advisors would be sending people to try and negotiate his release in the days to come. That was something she wasn’t about to allow just then though, as she couldn’t see them making any kind of offer she would be willing to accept.

“ _Don’t compromise, pup. Don’t settle for anything less than the best... You deserve it.”_

Her father’s final words echoed through her mind, making her jaw twitch in resolve. He’d spoken them to her as he lay dying from a sword through the middle, his belly ripped open beyond any healer’s ability to save him. Fergus had gone down shortly after, the arrow piercing his eye and impaling his brain. She’d held them only briefly before being forced to defend herself from another attack, and had only seen them again after they’d been prepared for the pyre. Just another reason to make the bastard King pay, as he’d refused the aid that would have spared their lives. He’d given some excuse that she couldn’t remember anymore, though it hadn’t replaced the anger that had fostered over the years. Now that she had him, she would make sure the pretender felt the same agony his actions had brought her...


	2. Chapter 2

She’d never thought she could be cruel, but something about the pompous ass before her brought out the worst in her. Now, sitting before him in one of the chairs, she took her time to eat the large turkey leg on her plate. She could tell he was hungry, as she’d only allowed him traditional prisoner’s rations: bread, cheese and water. He eyed her with envy, licking his lips as he watched her. It was obvious he was used to eating only the finest foods, something his position had afforded him. Things were different now, and she wanted to make sure he knew just where he stood with her.

“You can’t treat me like this, I am your King.” Alistair stated.

“I bend no knee to _you_... You’re nothing more than a dog lord in fancy clothes.” she snapped.

“I command you to release me at once!”

“You’re in no position to make demands, dung king. I’d just get used to that concept if I were you.” she said, setting her plate aside

“At _least_ get me something _decent_ to eat.”

“You’ll get what I give you and nothing more. It’s the _least_ you deserve.” she retorted, getting to her feet.

“Hey!” Alistair shouted as she left him there.

Making her way back up the stairs, she saw one of her advisors approaching. He was a trusted friend, someone she’d known since she was small. His silvering hair was pulled back into a half pony tail, the rest hanging freely to his shoulders. His eyes were a gentle blue, much like her father’s had been, and he was every bit as patient. Offering him a small smile, she walked through the castle with him as she made her way to the training grounds.

“We can’t hold him forever... What do you plan on doing with the King?” he asked.

“I’m not sure, Galen... I hadn’t thought that far ahead.”

“You’re father was impulsive as a boy, too.” he chuckled. “Action before thought, was what he used to say. Fortunately, he grew out of that.” he chuckled.

“I miss him... and the _rest_ of those that Howe butchered... I wonder what they’d think of me now.” she said sadly.

“You’re more like them than you know, Alaren. They came from a long and proud line of warriors, yet still made sure you had the best of everything, and all the love and care they could provide. I see that shining in you, child.” he replied, gently brushing her cheek as a father might.

“I don’t know... I can’t see myself settling down as they did.”

“Why not? Isn’t that what every girl dreams of? A home and family of her own?”

“Who would have me? I’m no delicate flower, Galen. I’m stubborn, headstrong and too intimidating because of my height for any man to consider. I’m not shy or demure, and I _certainly_ don’t bow to the will of anyone else. I am my own person, and that scares people. They can’t understand why I am the way I am.” she chuckled.

“Perhaps, but there may come a time when you find the one that would be willing to look past your faults to see the woman within that crusty shell of yours.” he teased.

“Crusty, am I?” she laughed.

“Like an apple pie. But on the inside, there’s a wonderfully sweet and gentle treat awaiting those that are willing to look past the shell.” he grinned.

Swallowing the lump that was trying to form in her throat, she offered the man a warm smile. He was the only one who knew she really hated fighting as she’d been forced to do, but there was no other choice. She’d sent message after message _imploring_ the King for help, only to be ignored. It was something that had cost her her entire family. She despised the pretender for it, loathed him with every part of her being. When he’d demanded her military support, given her own forces matched his, she’d refused. After he’d dealt with whatever it was he’d needed her for, he’d turned his men towards Highever, intent on making her accept him as her King or surrender. She would do neither. Now, the man sat in one of her cells, taken from his bed while he’d slept just outside her gates.

“You need to rest now, Alaren. You’ve been up many days now, and it shows. You’re growing dark circles under your eyes.” Galen offered gently.

“I can’t just yet, my friend. There’s still so much to do. Our forces...”

“Are safe, for the time being, as is our great fortress. The King’s men have retreated, as you’ve demanded, and our guards will ensure they _keep_ their distance. Go... Find a bath and your pillow for at _least_ an hour or so. I’ll alert you if you’re needed.” the man retorted.

Sighing, she knew he was right. Offering him a tired smile, she made her way back through the castle to her chambers. Removing her armor, she hung it on the stand her mother had used while she still lived. Sitting on her bed, she tugged off her boots and tossed them aside. Rubbing her face, she looked around the room. Her father’s trunk still stood in the corner, and his weapons hung on the rack above her bed. Adding his sword to the wall for the time being, she let out a ragged sigh. Peeling off her clothes, she padded softly to her bath and pumped the hot water into the tub. It was another miraculous work the Tranquil had crafted for her, something she was most grateful to have.

Taking her time to unbraid her hair, she realized just how much blood had been caked in it. Stepping into the heated tub, she sighed as she rest her head against the marble edge. Much had happened in the last twenty four hours, and there would be even more to do in the days that followed. Reaching for the sponge, she rubbed her scented soap into a thick lather. Washing slowly, she then proceeded to tend to her hair. The golden locks were in stark contrast to her parents, as they were both dark. It had often raised eyebrows, making people ponder if she truly _was_ their daughter. She had her mother’s eyes and her father’s hearty laugh though, something that removed any doubt. Gritting her teeth, she pushed their memory back into the safe corners of her mind, where they wouldn’t bring tears to her eyes.

Finishing her bath, she quickly dried off and wrapped the towel around her hair. Pulling on a night dress, she then braided the golden strands back into a tight rope that cascaded down her back to just above her waist. Crawling into her bed, she sighed as she stared up at the ceiling. She didn’t think she’d be able to sleep, given all that had happened There would be much to do in the days to come, as she needed to figure out what she would do with the bastard King. His people would want him back, of that she was certain. She wasn’t about to let him go without an arrangement that benefited her however, something that would ensure her people were protected by his army. She would never suffer a loss again, not as long as there was breath left in her body.

“ _Wake up, pup...” her father whispered._

_“What?” she asked softly._

_The look in his eyes told her danger stalked the halls of Highever. Nodding slightly, she rolled from her bed and moved to her wardrobe. Pulling on a light shirt and pants, she then strapped her armor on and grabbed her weapons. Meeting him in the hall, she watched as her mother rushed towards them._

_“Oriana and Oren are safe, for the time being. Fergus has sent them through the servant’s gate so they won’t be seen. He’ll join us in the hall once they’re safely off.” Eleanor said, meeting their eyes in turn._

_“Good. Do we have an idea of how many of the Arl’s men have infiltrated the keep?” Bryce asked._

_“One man reports there’s at least two of his men for every one of ours. They clash blades even now.” Eleanor replied._

_“The we use the castle’s defenses to our advantage. Pup, lead Ser Gilmore’s men to the south gates and engage the Arl’s men there. Once it is secure, move toward the main hall where your brother will be holding them back. Your mother and I will each take a wing and meet you there once we’ve cleared his forces.”_

_“Right. See you in the hall.” Alaren grinned._

_Rushing to the gate with Ser Gilmore as she was instructed, she watched as several of her soldiers were overrun by the Arl’s men. Knowing they had to push them back, she roared out her battle cry and charged forth. Blades clashed as she engaged them, Ser Gilmore at her back to prevent them from striking while they were focused on their opponents directly in front of them. It was a bloody fight, but they succeeded in taking the Arl’s men down before proceeding to the main hall._

_Stone had been torn from the walls and lay in fiery heaps from the Arl’s trebuchets. Moving around it was difficult at times, as the flames reached angrily towards them as they pressed on. Reaching the hall, she saw the Arl of Amaranthine sneering victoriously as he shoved her father from his blade. Racing to his side, she dropped down before him, gathering him into her arms as the battle surged around her._

_“Father!” she cried, brushing his hair from his face while placing a hand over the wound._

_“I’m fine, it’s just a flesh wound.” he smirked._

_“I’ll get the healers...” she said, looking around the hall._

_“It’s too late for that, pup. We both know that I’m beyond their help.”_

_“No... I won’t let you die, father.”_

_“Oh, if only will alone could heal me...” he chuckled. “Don’t compromise, pup. Don’t settle for anything less than the best... You deserve it.” he said, coughing up blood._

_“I’ll see this through, father.” she promised._

_Watching as the life left his eyes, she cradled him only a moment longer before laying him gently on the blood stained rug. Getting to her feet, she felt her anger burning in her heart as never before. Screaming in rage as her eyes found the Arl, she launched herself into heated combat with the man, wanting to execute her revenge. He was no match for her skill, though he managed to slither away when his men came to his aid. Blinded by hatred, she cut them down easily, never realizing she’d been wounded in the process. When the battle finally ended, she looked around at the devastation the man had wrought on her home._

_Fergus... both her parents... Oriana and Oren... they were all dead. Their bodies had been brought to the hall so they could be prepared for pyring. The sword - her father’s sword - scraped along the ground as she walked numbly among the dead. She was beyond devastated; there were no words that could match the grief growing in her heart. Seeing the worn and weary faces of her troops as they all turned to face her, she knew they would be every bit as loyal to her as they had been her family. She’d never expected to become Teyrna, that was supposed to be her brother’s title. Now, he was gone... they were _all_ gone. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she let the warrior in her take over._

_Issuing commands to her men, she watched as they moved to act on her requests. The Chantry priests made their way among the fallen, speaking last rites over their bodies before sending them off so they could be made ready for the fires that would return their souls to the Maker. The Arl would return, of that she was certain. And when he was cut down, his death would be avenged by his sons. She would plead her case before the crown, seeking justice from the King for all that had been taken from her. It would fall on deaf ears however, leaving her alone to face the hell that would surely follow..._

Gasping as she came awake, she felt her heart pounding heavily in her chest. Her face was flush and sweat beaded her brow. The sheets had tangled around her legs, binding her to the bed as they usually did when she dreamed of her parents. Hearing a knock at her door, she stared briefly at it before struggling to free herself from her bedding. Pulling on her robe once she’d picked herself up from where she’d toppled in her attempt to answer, she made her way over and pulled it quickly open.

“Teyrna, are you alright? I heard you screaming...” the guard said, meeting her eyes gently.

“I’m fine, Ethan. Just another nightmare.” she replied, trying to act as though nothing were amiss.

“As you say, my Lady. Galen has asked me to tell you he wishes a word when you have risen.”

“Thank you, I’ll get dressed and meet with him shortly.” she replied, offering the man a small smile.

Closing the door, she made her way to the washbowl to splash some cold water on her face. Looking at herself in the mirror over the vanity, she wondered how it was that she’d maintained her youthful appearance, given all the horror she’d seen. Rubbing her face with another handful of water, she quickly unbraided her hair so that she could brush it out. Tying it back once she’d finished, she dressed quickly before donning her armor. She was almost never without it these days, feeling as though she could be attacked at any moment. Strapping her father’s sword to her side, she then headed down to the dining hall, where she knew her most trusted friend would be.

Seeing him meet her eyes, she offered him a small smile as she made her way over. Taking her seat beside him, she thanked the young girl for the plate of food she placed before her. Starting on her meal eagerly, she felt the hunger pains gripping her belly. She’d eaten the day before, though it had only been the turkey leg. Given all that she’d done, her body required more than what she’d given it. Looking to the soldiers gathered, she saw the relief on their faces at having a moment’s peace without worry the King’s men would burst through the door at any given moment.

“How is our guest this morning?” she asked, stuffing a bite of bread into her mouth.

“Whiny, as usual. He seems to think we’re going to let him out of his cell if he complains enough.” Galen replied, taking a drink of his juice.

“Has he been fed?”

“Not yet, my Lady. I thought you might wish to tend to that yourself, once you’d finished, of course.”

“Indeed I do.” she replied.

Finishing what she’d been given, she collected some bread, a little cheese and half an apple onto a plate. Making her way down to the dungeon, she spotted the King sitting in a corner. Shaking her head, she thought he looked more like a petulant child than the ruler of a country, and surmised that wasn’t terribly off from the truth. Sliding the platter under the bars, she claimed her seat in the chair across from his cell.

“Come to gloat?” he asked, taking the cheese and stuffing it into his mouth. “I thought you did enough of that yesterday.”

“There’s always time to savor victory, dog. Especially when the prize is one so highly valued.” she retorted, kicking back to smirk at him.

“You don’t think the Banns or Arlings will stand for this outrage, do you?”

“Oh, I’m sure there are _some_ that pity your cause. Most have pledged their service to _me_ , however. Apparently, _they_ don’t feel you’re fit to rule Ferelden either. South Reach, Dragon’s Peak, Rainisfere... Even the Teyrn of Gwaren has sworn his allegiance to Highever. Arl Teagan is steadfastly yours, though I suppose that’s to be expected, given you grew up in Redcliffe. You’d be surprised how many in the Bannorn feel you incompetent to hold the title you do.”

“There can’t be _that_ many who think me incompetent...”

Arching a brow at him, she wondered why it was the Hero of Ferelden had made him King. He didn’t seem to know how to rule, and had created contention within the country. Getting to her feet, she pulled the small dagger from her back and used it to clean under her nails.

“How long before they send someone to bargain for your freedom?” she asked, walking casually before the bars.

“I’m sure they’re sending someone even now, you nasty... sneaky, King napper.” he replied.

“How very eloquent of you. King napper... I think I like that one. Of course, that would have to imply you worthy of the title, which you aren’t. Perhaps bastard napper would be closer to the truth. I’m surprised more haven’t turned against you, to be honest.”

“Hey! _Some_ people like me!” Alistair protested.

“Which ones?”

“Well, there’s Teagan, and... and...”

“Those that _do_ follow you do so only out of loyalty to Maric, not because of any merit of your own.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have all the charm of a slimy toadstool? All nasty and.. Slimy.”

“Again, your attempt at insulting me is woefully lacking. Your imagination is as dull as your wit. Perhaps you need a scholar to give you a proper education...”

“I was trained as a Templar! The Chantry sees them _educated_ before sending them off.”

“What was your excuse then? Oh, that’s right. You were conscripted by the Grey Wardens _before_ they had a chance to teach you anything. That brings it all into perspective now.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“No one ever _accused_ me of being nice, pretender.”

“What made you such a bitter old shrew?” he asked.

“ _You_ did.” she retorted.

Seeing the look of confusion on his face, she knew he really didn’t think himself responsible. Shaking her head, she turned toward the dungeon door. Glancing briefly back, she saw him staring at her. Snarling, she stepped through the door and slammed it behind her. Nodding to her guards, she watched as they stepped into place. Taking the stairs three at a time, she let her feet guide her out of the keep. The fresh air and sunlight felt good on her face, and she let the gentle breeze soothe her raging heart. Sighing softly, she knew she couldn’t take time to relax. She had to meet with her generals and go over what it was they would need to do in the days to come. Pushing thought of anything else from her mind, she turned for the war room and set herself to the task at hand.


	3. Chapter 3

“My Lady, watchguard reports there are riders approaching. They wear the King’s colors and carry a banner of truce.” the woman said, meeting Alaren’s eyes several days later.

“Ready my horse. I’ll not let them near the Keep until I _know_ they they come in peace.” she replied.

Watching her rush off, she turned for the dungeons. She knew they would likely wish to see their King, and wanted to make certain he was at least awake when they arrived. Finding him sitting in his corner, she stopped short of the bars as he got to his feet. Meeting his eyes, she saw the curiosity in his own as he stared back at her.

“Men approach wearing your colors. What are their intentions?” she asked, knowing he likely had no answer for her.

“If I had to guess, I’d say they wanted to negotiate my freedom. I _am_ rather important to them, after all. Last of the Theirin bloodline, perhaps you heard...”

“Just because you bear Maric’s blood does _not_ make you his son. You are a bastard. Cast out of Redcliffe when you were barely able to hold a blade.”

“Hey! I knew how to hold a sword, I just didn’t think I’d ever _need_ to.”

“Yes, a life of privilege must have been hard.”

“It’s not like _you_ weren’t born with a silver spoon in your mouth.” Alistair said, folding his arms across his chest.

“Actually, I wasn’t. While I am... _was_ the daughter of a Teyrn, I was taught to work hard, show the same respect to the people who tended to Highever that I was given, and be kind, fair and just to everyone equally, no matter their race, gender or sexual preference. Understanding breeds compassion, pretender. Something you are woefully short of.”

“I know compassion...”

“Really? When the Hero of Ferelden made you King, how did you repay her kindness? You cast her off simply because she was an elf. Or was it perhaps because she was a mage? Word of her devotion to you was sung about for some time after she’d fallen, a loyalty you clearly didn’t deserve.”

“Don’t talk about her that way.” Alistair growled.

“Don’t speak truth? Is it that painful to be reminded of your actions after the Landsmeet, dung king?”

“Yes...” he said, a sadness coming to his eyes that she hadn’t expected.

“You only regretted your behavior after she’d sacrificed herself so that you could live.”

“That’s not true! I regretted my words the moment I’d spoken them!”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t expect you to understand what it is to love someone other than yourself.”

Snarling, Alaren grabbed him by his shirt through the bars and pulled him hard against them. Her eyes glittered dangerously as she glared at him.

“I have loved more deeply than a bastard like you could ever _dream_! Because of _you_ , because of your lack of concern for those who served you, I lost _everything_! You claim that I betrayed you by refusing to answer your call to arms, but you betrayed Highever _first_! I will _never_ swear fealty to the likes of _you_!” she growled.

Letting him go, she turned from the dungeon and made her way back up the stairs. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she tried desperately to push the painful memories down, though it was more difficult that she’d imagined it would be. She hated everything about the bastard King, and his very presence set her on edge. Seeing the stable boy approaching with her horse as she entered the courtyard, she thanked him as she took hold of the reigns. Swinging herself up into the saddle, she waited for Galen and a few of her soldiers to accompany her before riding out to meet the King’s men.

Stopping before the man sent to negotiate the King’s release, she looked briefly to Galen as he began to speak.

“We come in peace to discuss the return of our King, but before we offer any proposals, we need assurance that he lives.”

“You have my word.” Alaren replied.

“Begging your pardon, my Lady, but what guarantee do we have that you’re not lying?”

“I am Alaren Cousland, the Teyrna of Highever. Like my family before me, I have always held true to my word. Judge me on my actions if you will, but _never_ question my honor.” she retorted.

Watching as the men looked nervously between themselves, she knew they all believed her. The Couslands were famous for their honor and loyalty, something that had only been brought into question when she refused to answer the King’s call to arms. Even then, the people of Ferelden, those that had chosen to take her side, knew that she had done so with good reason. It was something they valued greatly, something they knew they could count on, no matter what was thrown at them. Seeing the man in charge nod slightly, she sat a little straighter in her saddle.

“After you have rested and washed up, I will take one of you down to see your King. You will be allowed to visit with him under guard, and my people will provide for you while you stay within my walls.” she stated.

“You’re saying you would not attack us?” one of the men asked.

“You carry a banner of truce. Unless you deceive us and attack from within, you will be treated with respect while we negotiate.” she replied firmly.

Seeing the leader of their group nod, she looked to Galen. Turning back toward the castle, she led the small party through the gates. Stepping down from her horse, she let the stable hands lead her stallion away. Waiting until they had done the same for the King’s negotiators, she escorted them through the Keep to chambers where they might freshen up. Meeting the eyes of the man who led the small party, she knew he found her actions curious.

“You’re not our prisoners, though you will be under guard. Now, as I know you’ve ridden several days to get here, you should wash up and rest, as I offered before. You will be escorted to supper when it’s ready, but in the meantime, one of you will be taken to see your King.” she replied.

Leaving the men with stunned looks on their faces, she made her way back down to the dungeon. Setting the bucket of water and bathing supplies she’d brought down, she approached the King’s cell.

“What’s this all about?” Alistair asked.

“Aside from the fact your men have requested to see you, I despise the smell you’ve acquired. Wash up.” she replied, folding her arms across her chest.

“What, with you standing right there?”

“You have a problem with that?” she asked, arching a brow.

“Yes, actually. I... um, I don’t really need an audience...” he replied, blushing slightly.

“You aren’t the first man I’ve seen naked, and I’m certain you won’t be the last. There’s nothing different about you from any of the others. Unless of course you have no balls or shaft to be proud of.” she retorted.

Seeing him turn a deep crimson, she arched a brow as he turned away from her. She knew he’d been with women before, and wondered how it was he was so modest about being seen naked. Watching him undress, she claimed the chair across from his cell. She had to admit, if she were honest with herself, that the taut and lean muscles on his back were appealing. His posterior was also well formed, evidence that he didn’t sit around giving orders all day. Catching glimpses of his frame as he reached through the bars for the soap and sponge, she felt her heart skip a beat as she caught sight of his manhood.

She was no shy, innocent maiden, though she hadn’t expected the King to make her blush as she looked on his bare form. He was well endowed, even at rest, and the powerful muscles of his body gave indication that he might be a decent lover. Everywhere she looked, he was firm, as though he spent more time training than hobnobbing with nobles. Her mind began to wander, imagining what it might be like to bed him, of only for the pleasure she could take from his tantalizing...

“Are you going to keep staring at my ass or hand me a towel?” Alistair asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“What makes you think I was staring at you?” she retorted, getting to her feet. “I was merely wondering if you finally going to wipe the stains from your cheeks.”

“Right, because your eyes weren’t just fixed on... other things.” he chuckled.

“Get dressed. I don’t want you scaring any of the servants.” she growled, tossing some clothes at him. “You might want to shave too, just so your men can tell which end your ass is really on.”

Waiting until he’d done as she said, she tossed the water down the drain before gathering everything up. Meeting his eyes briefly, she turned for the stairs and made her way back up into the castle. She couldn’t understand why she’d stared at him so long, or how his bare flesh had left her tingling with nothing more than a glance. Chiding herself for even letting her mind entertain such thoughts, she strode purposefully into the main hall. She needed to let off steam and vent her frustrations, else she might find herself tempted to return to his cell for a moment of passion.

Spotting the guard captain speaking with some of the younger soldiers, she walked briskly over and stood before him. He knew what she wanted, and was all too happy to engage her in battle. Using only her blades, she engaged the man in full combat, lashing out with everything she had. She was a fool to have let the bastard King get to her, to let the merest sight of him raise her heart rate. Growling, she lost herself to another dance, one that eventually left her panting as she stood before her captain. Seeing the smile he gave her, she shoved him playfully before letting out a satisfied sigh.

“I needed that, Urek, thank you.” she smiled, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“You are welcome, my Lady.” he replied.

The large Qunari saluted her as he returned her smile warmly. Drawing in a deep breath, she decided she should get cleaned up before going to supper. The King’s men would likely be eager to know how he fared, which meant that she would have to bring them down to see him for themselves. Bolting the door to her room once she’d entered, she quickly peeled herself out of her armor and clothing before slipping into her waiting bath. Washing swiftly, she dried herself off and dressed before replacing her gear. Making her way to the dining hall, she spotted the man in charge of negotiating the King’s release. Meeting his eyes levelly, she stopped before him.

“If you’re ready, I’ll take you to see your King.” she said flatly.

“Thank you, Teyrna Cousland.” he replied, a relieved smile on his face.

Leading him down to the dungeon, she opened the great doors and made her way inside. Nodding to the guards, she knew they would keep watch, even if she chose not to stay. Seeing Alistar staring over at her, she grit her teeth at the uncomfortable flip in her belly. Images of him naked flashed unbidden to mind, and she had to fight to keep her imagination from taking hold of her, as it had while she’d watched him bathe. Clearing her throat, she turned her attention back to the man and motioned for him to enter.

“Corben! I’m glad to see you!” Alistair said, meeting the man’s face with a bright smile.

“Your Majesty!” the man replied, bowing before him. “How has she treated you?”

“Oh, just fine! She brings me breakfast in bed and rubs my little footsies when I’m tired.” Alistair said sarcastically. “I think she likes me.”

Rolling her eyes, she made a disgusted noise as she turned to the guards.

“Bring the King’s lackey up to the dining hall when he’s done kissing his master’s ass.” she said, glancing briefly over her shoulder at the man. “And report everything said to me before you return to your post.”

“Yes, my Lady, as you wish.” the guard replied.

She didn’t want to be around the man, though she knew she would have to eventually. She couldn’t keep him there forever, as his supporters would eventually march against her if she did. It would be Arl Teagan who led that march, as the man considered Alistair something akin to a younger brother. Why, she couldn’t fathom, as Alistair was whiny and arrogant at best. Arl Teagan was particularly fair from all she’d heard, but held a remarkable soft spot for the man that had once lived in his brother’s home. Reaching the dining hall, she claimed her seat and thanked the young man that brought her food. Tucking in, she watched as the man Alistair had called Corben was escorted to her table. Nodding her thanks, she turned her attention back to the King’s man.

“Satisfied?” she asked, popping a piece of meat in her mouth.

“I... yes, my Lady. I have seen your word is still as true as ever. Highever’s reputation has not been tarnished in that sense.” he replied, nodding to the lad that set a plate before him.

“Highever’s reputation has not been tarnished at _all_. Look into the facts before you make accusations about myself or my people.” she retorted shortly.

Seeing him shift nervously in his seat, she knew she’d made him uncomfortable with her statement. It gave her pause however, as she was curious to know the King’s reasons for ignoring her all those times. Stabbing a wedge of roasted potato, she glanced over at the man.

“What reason can you give me for the King’s refusal to come to Highever’s aid when we’ve made requests in the past?” she asked coldly.

“My Lady?” the man replied nervously.

“We sent missive after missive when Highever faced danger, either by those slipping in on the Waking Sea, or raiding parties from as far away as Nevara and Rivain, threats we held back from breaching Ferelden and taking the Kingdom away from your pretender. Why was help never sent?” she asked again.

“I... I know nothing about that, my Lady. I have only been in the King’s service for a short while...” Corben replied.

“I see. So you claim ignorance on behalf of your pretender. Perhaps you should ask him when you visit him in the morning. See if he’ll give _you_ a valid excuse for abandoning us to our fate.”

“My Lady...”

“Save it, Corban. You either refuse to give account or truly are ignorant of the reasons behind our stand here. Know this. Highever will not yield our position or bend knee to your King. You’ve lost our trust and with it, our allegiance.” she said, getting to her feet. “Someone will escort you to your rooms once you’ve finished here. I will speak with you again in my council chambers tomorrow. For now, I must attend to my people.”

Leaving the man and his companions at the table, she made her way out of the Keep and up to the battlements. The stars shone brightly in the midnight sky above, blanketing the land in their gentle light. Closing her eyes, she let the cool breeze caress her face, savoring the feel of it on her pale skin. She liked the quiet the night brought, as she could almost feel her parents beside her. It had been just over five years since she’d lost them to Howe’s men, yet not a day had passed that she didn’t feel their loss. Her people had suffered through the Blight with no aid from Denerim, and battled more darkspawn than she could count. She’d tended to those that had taken ill with Blight sickness, and done what she could for their families after they’d passed. She’d stood at arms with them as Nathan Howe, next in line for the Arling of Amaranthine - despite the dissolution of the estate after the King’s coronation - marched against her home. And again when his brother Thomas came two years later. She’d lost friends, family and loved ones in those battles, people that could have been spared had the bastard pretender granted her aid and sent the men she’d requested.

Pushing the hurt back down where it lived in her soul, she steeled herself for what she knew she would have to do to protect Highever and the people who counted on her. It was a stance she would not retreat from, no matter the cost. Highever would stand strong, either as its own city state, independent of the Ferelden crown, or as a part of the monarchy to which it belonged under the strictest condition that a full battalion of the bastard King’s men would remain in vigilance of her sturdy walls. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her home, even if it meant the King would reside in her own walls to ensure its safety...


	4. Chapter 4

“ _Alaren, come join us!” a young woman called._

_Her youthful voice was full of laughter as she danced around the maypole. They were celebrating another wedding in Highever, that of her best friend to the former Captain of the Guard. They’d planned to leave the castle proper to start a life outside the shelter of her walls. It was something she herself wanted; a life full of mirth with the man she loved. Seeing him smile over at her as he saw her, she felt her belly flip. He was the first man she’d ever been with, and would have him be the _only_ one, if she had her way..._

_The dream shifted just then, changing from one of happier times to that of great sorrow..._

_“Don’t worry, love, the King’s men will come...” the man said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they stood on the battlements._

_Smiling up at him, she felt herself becoming lost in his bright blue eyes. He was only a little taller than she was, standing six foot three. His deep ebony hair was pulled back into a half ponytail, flowing over his shoulders to the middle of his back. He was strikingly handsome, moreso than any man she’d ever laid eyes on. His jaw was chiseled, his teeth perfectly straight and glimmering white. His body was lean; the muscles rippling like a graceful predator with even the slightest movement. His powerful form was pleasing to look upon, both on the training field with her troops, as well as in her bed as they embraced their passion. He’d been slow to accept and return her affection, not wanting to be seen as one only after her title. He loved her though, as much as she loved him. He’d proposed to her the previous night as they lay naked in each other’s arms. The future she’d wanted was within her grasp._

_“I hope you’re right, Syn... I really do.” she replied, resting her head on his chest a moment._

_She’d begun losing faith in the King, as he’d failed to come to their aid three times previously. Surely, he couldn’t refuse her this time, not when his entire _kingdom_ was at stake. If Highever failed to repel _this_ invasion from the sea, all of _Ferelden_ would fall. Some thought the war with Orlais was over, put to rest when Maric took the throne. It didn’t deter the Grand Duke from sending men to attack in the hopes of creating a foothold from which he could take back that throne, however. If Highever fell, so would the rest of the country..._

_“My Lady! They’ve breached the outer walls and are pouring into the city as we speak!” a man said, racing toward them._

_“Where are the King’s men?” she asked, reaching for her sword._

_“My Lady?”_

_“The King’s men, where are they?” she demanded, meeting the soldier’s eyes harshly._

_“We’ve received no word back, my Lady. He’s not coming!”_

_“He HAS to come! Highever...” she began..._

_“Can stand without him, love. She has in the past, and this time will be no different.” Syn smiled, brushing her cheek lightly._

_Taking relief in the gentle caress he offered, she drew strength from him as she turned to do what it was she needed. Making her way through the castle, she joined her men in the city as they fought against the Orlesians. The battle was bloody, and many good men and women fell to enemy blades. Driving her sword through the middle of one man, she followed through with a graceful spin, taking his head from his shoulders. Hearing a cry of surprise from her left, she turned to see Syn dropping to his knees._

_The world melted just then, everything else disappearing except the vision before her. It was as though she was looking on the scene through a tunnel of water. Her heart was in her throat as she watched her love fall to the ground, his blood pooling beneath him. The scream that tore from her throat came from her soul, the devastation of all she’d lost wounding her beyond any healer’s ability to repair. She was fire just then, a raging inferno that would put a stop to the Duke’s men once and for all. Launching herself into battle, she cut down every Orlesian in her path. She wouldn’t let them take this, the one last good thing in her life, away, just because the King failed to answer her request for aid. Looking around as the last man fell, she rushed quickly back to Syn’s side. Cradling him gently in her arms, she saw the small smile he tried to give her. Brushing the bloody hair from his face, she saw him look slowly up at her._

_“I’m... so sorry...” he said softly._

_“Shhh, don’t talk like that. You’re going to live, Syn... Even if I have to bring in a blood mage to...” she replied, tears falling from her eyes._

_“It’s too late for that... Know that... I’ll be... watching over you... Live and love, Alaren... Do it for us both...” he whispered, his breath little more than a shallow gasp._

_Feeling his body go limp in her arms, she held him closer to her, willing him to come back to life. Screaming in agony, she knew her soul would never be the same. The bastard King would pay for this, his greatest betrayal yet. Highever would stand strong, never bending to the will of him or anyone else ever again..._ ”

Waking with a start, she felt the tears falling from her eyes faster than she could wipe them away. She’d buried him beneath the largest tree in the garden, a custom she’d learned from the Dalish that traded with her whenever they passed through. He would always remain close to her that way, though the heartache didn’t end with him. It wasn’t long after she’d given him his rest that she learned she carried his child. A boy that had come too early and died not long after he was born. He’d had his father’s eyes and dark hair, but the freckles dusting his pale skin had come from her. Had he lived, he would have been as great a leader as her father had been, with the gentleness of the man who’d sired him...

Pressing her hand to her heart, she felt their loss wearing on her soul. The healers that had been there when the babe was born said she most likely wouldn’t be able to conceive or carry another child after that, as she’d lost a great deal of blood, making the risk too dangerous. It was something else she blamed the King for, as if he’d sent his forces to help her, both Syn and their babe, whom she’d named Keirian, might still be alive. Just one _more_ reason to despise the man now resting in the dungeon below her.

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, she rose and made her way to her bath. Running the hot water, she slipped into the marble tub, letting her head rest against the edge. She hated dreaming of Syn, as it always left her in tears. She missed him terribly, and though she hadn’t thought about it, she realized that today marked the second anniversary of his passing. Forcing the tears back, she turned her attention to her hair and proceeded to wash it carefully. Doing the same for the rest of her body, she emerged from the bath and let the water drain out. Wrapping a towel around her lithe form, she padded softly to her balcony. Staring down at the garden below, she smiled gently as the predawn light caught the dew on Syn’s tree, making it sparkle brilliantly.

Sighing as the sun broke over the Keep a short while later, she turned away and went to dress. Pulling on her clothing and armor, she strapped her father’s sword to her side. Tucking the locket her love had given her into her shirt, she then proceeded to braid her hair and wind it into a tight bun at her crown. She knew it made her look harsh to outsiders, but that was what she wanted them to think of her. Those that knew her understood that it was merely a front for others, so they wouldn’t think her weak or vulnerable. They knew the truth though, that she was really a caring, gentle woman who loved them with all she was.

Finding herself in the great hall, she contemplated going to check on her prisoner before getting something to eat. Deciding her stomach wouldn’t tolerate food just then, given the dream she’d just had, she let her feet carry her down to the dungeon. It had been days since she'd last come to see him, not wanting to look upon the face of the man she so despised. Alistair was already awake, his food having been brought to him only a short while ago. Seeing him turn to look at her, she felt a tic start in her jaw that she had to grit her teeth to still. Stepping over to him, she watched as he got to his feet.

“Good morning, Teyrna. Come to watch me bathe again?” Alistair asked playfully.

The cold look in her eyes wiped the smile off his face, giving him the feeling that he should step away from the bars.

“You know you’re really scary when you do that... Did your parents send you to the school for young bitches? I knew a woman who attended, her name is Morrigan. Perhaps you’ve met...” he finished flippantly.

“I am the way you made me, pretender.” she retorted.

“I’m sorry?” he asked, genuinely confused.

“What will your men do if a satisfactory agreement cannot be reached?” she said, turning her attention from the topic he wished to pursue.

“I’d imagine they’d send soldiers. Arl Teagan does rather like me, after all.” Alistair replied.

“I can’t see why. You’re whiny and self centered at best.”

“I am _not_ self centered.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Then what’s your reason for withholding aid when we’ve sent requests?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“I, uh... I don’t recall seeing anything like that cross my desk.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t expect you to be anything other than the bitch you obviously are. Now, release me so that I may rejoin my people.” Alistair demanded.

“Fat chance, pretender. You’ll _rot_ in that cell before I let you go.”

“You’re colder than Lake Calenhad in the winter, you know that? Heartless to the bone.”

Moving faster than he expected, she gathered his shirt in her balled fist and pulled him hard against the bars of his cell. The crack of bone in his cheek upon impact was satisfying, as was the blood that spilled from his nose. She wanted him to hurt as badly as she was just then, wanted the world to see the pain he was in because of her. She had long buried the agony in her heart that he’d brought her, but standing there with him now brought it back to the surface. Snarling as he met her eyes, she knew he was finally realizing his life was in her hands. Literally. Letting him go, she watched as he moved swiftly away from her. The red swelling on the side of his face told her she’d done more than bruise him, something she felt a small measure of guilt for. Stepping back herself, she grit her teeth as she tried to fight the urge to throttle him.

“I’ll send a healer down to tend to your face. Not that it’ll improve your looks any...” she stated, turning from the cell.

The look he’d given her was enough to make her feel remorse for hurting him as she had. She’d wanted to make him suffer, as he’d made her, but it just wasn’t in her. His words had hurt as well, cutting her to the bone. She _wasn’t_ heartless and cold, quite the opposite. Something about his presence seemed to bring out the worst in her though, a darkness that had festered in her heart for far longer than she’d realized. Letting out a weary sigh, she made her way through the Keep to the healer’s hall. Spotting one of the younger mages, she offered him a warm smile.

“I need you to go tend to the King’s injuries.” she said, trying to keep the shame from showing in her eyes.

“Yes, my Lady. But... how did he injure himself in his cell?” the young man asked.

“I _may_ have been a little rough with him this morning...” she replied sheepishly.

“I see. I’ll gather my supplies and go directly, my Lady.”

Nodding her thanks, she watched him hurry from the hall towards the dungeons. Sighing, she then let her feet carry her to Syn’s tree. Sitting beneath the heavy branches, she could almost feel him there, as though he himself were offering her the shelter her heart needed to feel. It was comforting on so many levels, just being close to where he rest. Closing her eyes, she hoped she could keep the tears from falling as she rest against the rugged bark of the tall oak.

Getting to her feet some time later, she decided to go check on the King once again. She was certain his negotiators had been to see him, given the position of the sun overhead. Brushing herself off, she collected the items he would need for a bath and walked the path to the dungeons. Stopping short of the door, she listened to the men speaking with Alistair in soft tones.

“Why? Why didn’t we receive word from Highever that they needed our help?” Alistair asked gruffly.

“I don’t know, your Majesty. All I can say is I personally never saw anything.” Corban replied.

“Look into it!” Alistair snapped.

“Yes, my Lord. Begging your pardon though, why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is it so important?”

“Because it’s _our_ fault we lost Highever’s trust...” Alistair replied softly.

“What do you mean?” Corban asked.

“Everything that happened here... the darkspawn raids, both the Howe attacks, the invasion from Orlais... they took their toll. The Teyrna lost everyone she loved because _we_ didn’t respond to her call to arms.”

“I don’t understand...”

“She lost her family during the Blight - all killed by Rendon Howe and his men - more of her people to the darkspawn when the hordes from Denerim were driven back during the Blight, some of her closest friends when his sons retaliated _both_ times, , and the one person she had left that she cared about, a man named Syn or something like that, when the Orlesians violated their truce agreement under the command of Grand Duke Gaspard and attacked from the sea. It’s no _wonder_ she hates me... _us_ as much as she does.” Alistair answered, his voice full of regret. “I want to know what happened... _why_ such a gross neglect turned Highever away from us.”

“Yes, your Majesty. I’ll look into it at once.” Corban said, bowing to his King.

Entering the room moments later, she watched as the man scurried quickly away. Letting the door close behind him, she turned her attention to the King. He was frightened of her, evidenced by the look in his eyes as she drew close. Setting the bathing supplies down, she turned her attention to the cell door. Unlocking it, she then placed the items inside where he could reach them easier. Locking the door behind her as she stepped out, she turned her back to him so that he could bathe in some measure of privacy.

“My words to you were... unkind... untoward... I beg your forgiveness.” Alistair said, sliding the bucket closer.

Glancing back slightly, she almost couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“I understand your rage, Lady Cousland, and I’ve ordered my men to look into the reasons behind our failing you. I give you my word that it won’t happen again. I’m sorry I caused you so much pain.”

“Who told you?” she asked, fighting the tears his sincerity brought.

“Your healer. I was angry with you for what you’d done to me, but he explained your reason as to why. I am truly sorry for all that you’ve lost.”

Turning to face him, she watched as he bathed with his back to her. The pain in her heart was trying to choke her, tightening its grip in the lump that formed in her throat.

“He was my betrothed... We had only gotten engaged the previous night... He died in my arms two years ago today.” she said softly.

Seeing him turn to face her, she met his eyes levelly. There was sorrow there, genuine remorse for what had happened. The tic in her jaw beat rapidly, the struggle to keep her eyes dry becoming more difficult with each breath. She wasn’t sure why, but she believed him. She trusted that he would do as he said and discover what had happened. Unlocking the door to his cell, she collected the bathing items once he was done, passing in a clean change of clothes for him to wear. Hesitating a moment, she stepped back from the open door.

“What’s this about?” he asked, moving a step away from the open door.

“I’ve decided to move you to a more comfortable room. Unless of course you’d rather stay where you are.” she said.

Waiting for him to move forward, she turned to walk with him out of the dungeon. Leading him to one of the rooms near hers, she opened the door to allow him entry. Seeing him look around, she could tell he was relieved to discover there was an actual bed, not a cot in a dank prison cell. Meeting his eyes as he turned to face her, she drew in a steadying breath.

“I... thank you.” he said.

“You’ll still be under guard, though you’ll at least have a measure of privacy the dungeon didn’t afford you. Your meals will be brought to you for the time being, as I don’t want my people to think I’ve gone soft by allowing you a seat at my table.”

“Yes, we can’t have the Teyrna of Highever showing any weakness.” he teased slightly.

“Anyone willing to accuse me of weakness is welcome to put their words to the test. I do not bend to the whims of other people’s desires.” she retorted.

Seeing him smile as she pulled the door closed, she felt her stomach give that same uncomfortable flip it had done the first time she’d seen him naked. Chiding herself for her girlish thoughts about the man, she made her way down to the training field. She needed to work off some of the tension she was feeling, and knew Urek would be more than happy to help. Spotting his massive form as he trained with some of the younger troops, she watched as his powerful body flexed, the sweat glistening on his pale bare skin as he moved with the grace uncommon to a being of his size. Smiling as he met her eyes, she stepped up to match blades with her Qunari Captain...


	5. Chapter 5

It was good to work out her frustrations with her Captain of the Guard, as he was a skilled and powerful warrior. She suspected that was true of most Qunari, though she’d only ever met two. The first was a man who went by the name ‘Sten’ as he came to Highever in preparation to sail back to Seheron just after the Blight. Urek was different, or perhaps Sten was, as the former had large horns twisting back from his brow, much as a dragon did. His eyes were also unlike the other man’s, in that they were a brilliant gold, rimmed with a deep crimson, almost dragon like themselves. His body was covered with scars from the many battles he’d fought, though he was still a kind and gentle soul beneath the rough exterior. Sten had disliked him immediately, calling him something along the lines of a dirty traitor. She couldn’t remember the term precisely, but that was her impression of it when she’d heard it. Not that such names bothered Urek, as he’d heard them all before. She knew what other humans thought of him, some calling him a bloodthirsty savage, but she wasn’t like that. Nor were the people that lived in the Highever Teyrnir. They were all fair and just people, treating everyone the same. There wasn’t an alienage in her home either, as she detested the whole idea of elves being treated as less than slaves. Instead, she’d provided decent housing and jobs that were adequate at covering their expenses and allowing them to have a decent life. No one was turned away because of their race...

Returning to the main hall some time later, she found her feet walking the path that took her to the King’s new chambers. His door was open and he was speaking easily with his guards. The occasional laugh that rang through the hallway told her that he’d found a measure of ease with them, likely on some shared aspect of being a man. Most were unconcerned with their appearance or smell, something she’d always found offensive. Alistair was different, however. He was well groomed when afforded the opportunity to be so, particularly his hair. She wondered how it was he got it to stand up in the front as he did, given the rest was combed neatly down. Leaning against the doorway as she watched him, she had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing as the guards nearly fell over themselves trying to get to their feet upon seeing her.

“Enjoying yourselves?” she asked, meeting the first man’s eyes.

“Uh, yes... Well, uh...” he stuttered.

“Forgive us, my Lady. We were, uh...” the second man added.

“Just taking a break, I understand. It’s not every day that one has the opportunity to speak freely with the so called King of Ferelden.” she replied.

“Yes, my Lady. He was just telling us about his role in the Blight, and about the witch Morrigan.” the first man said, blushing slightly.

“I see. Comparing me to her again, I suppose...” she sighed.

“No, my Lady! He was just telling us about the pranks he’d pulled on her, and...” the first man covered.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to make excuses. I know well his opinion of me, you don’t need to say more.” she replied, stopping him before he could finish. “Return to your posts, please.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

Watching the guards move by her, she met Alistair’s eyes. There wasn’t the same hatred of her she’d seen there before, something she found curious. The small smile he gave her made her stomach tighten, a sensation she was growing to despise. She didn’t like the way he made her feel, yet was inexplicably compelled to speak with him. She couldn’t understand how a man who spoke so easily with others could have the heart of stone that had caused her to lose everyone she’d ever cared about. Seeing his smile brighten, she furrowed her brow.

“What?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

“I’m just curious as to what you need, given that you’ve been standing there staring at me for the last five minutes without saying a word.” he replied, getting to his feet and walking toward her.

“I am _not_ staring...”

“Really? Then what brings you to my door?” he smirked.

“The urge to pummel you for distracting my guards.” she retorted.

“Yes, because _everyone_ needs a good pummeling once in awhile.” he teased, his smile bright and playful. “Or perhaps you’re just here to see me naked again.”

Pushing herself away from the doorframe, she glared at him in frustration. Gasping in surprise as he reached for her, she felt her head spin as he kissed her hotly. Shoving him away, she balled up her fist and hit him square on the jaw. The mirth in his eyes was every bit as infuriating as his actions, and she wanted nothing more than to hit him again.

“You know, you’re actually really beautiful when you’re not scowling at me.” he smiled, meeting her eyes as he let his finger trail down her cheek and jaw.

“Don’t ever do that again.” she said, slightly breathless.

“What, remind you that you’re a ravishingly beautiful woman? One full of fire, and passion that’s been pushed so far down you can barely remember it?” he asked softly, pulling his hand away slowly.

“Someone will be along shortly with your lunch.” she stated, turning on her heel.

Walking briskly through the hall, she found herself thinking of the kiss he’d given her. It frustrated her to no end, as he was her enemy. Was he trying to seduce his way to freedom? Was he trying to lull her into a false sense of security to that he could escape and return to his men? She suspected that was the reason, and chided herself for letting him get to her as he was. He’d called her a bitch and compared her to the woman Morrigan, proof that he really didn’t like her. Still, he’d apologized, and there was genuine sincerity in his eyes when he had. She was confused, something she’d never been in her life, and wondered why. His presence was having an effect on her, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She needed to distance herself from him, remembering that he was the cause of all she’d lost. It didn’t sit well in her heart, however. His words to his men gave indication that he truly _didn’t_ know of her requests for aid, and he’d ordered his man Corban to look into the reason behind it. If nothing else, it could provide her with the answer to those questions she’d asked herself time and time again.

Doing her best to avoid him in the days that followed, she found it a difficult task at best. Something about his eyes pulled at her, drawing her to them even in her dreams. She’d sought refuge in combat training with Urek, hoping that it would distract her from where she really wanted to be. It wasn’t a significant help, merely one that left her more tired than when she’d started. That, in turn, led her dreams of Alistair to be more vivid. The kiss lingered in her thoughts, and she hated to admit that she wanted more. He had a powerful body, one that she knew could bring great pleasure, given the opportunity, though she was almost afraid of letting herself experience it. He was her prisoner, and one never took such to their bed, no matter how appealing their physique.

Entering the dining hall for breakfast, she claimed her seat and thanked the serving girl for her meal. Taking her time to eat, she looked over some of the reports her scouts had placed before her as she did so. Seeing Galen and Corban approaching her rather rapidly, she furrowed her brow.

“My Lady, I must speak with you at once!” Galen started, his voice full of anxiety.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, getting to her feet.

“Might we talk more privately?” Corban responded. “Perhaps with the King, as this matter pertains to him as well.”

Nodding her head, she walked with the men up to Alistair’s room. Seeing the curious look in his eyes as they entered, she turned back to face the men, folding her arms across her chest as she did. Glancing over at Alistair as he came to stand beside her, she waited for the men to speak.

“There’s a problem, my Lady Cousland, your Majesty.” Galen began.

“I assumed that by the look on your faces when you came in.” Alistair responded, placing his hands on his hips.

“Anora Mac Tir... she’s...” Galen said, meeting each of their eyes in turn.

“She’s what, Galen.” Alaren asked.

“She’s rallied an army, my Lady. She marches towards Highever as we speak!” Corban continued.

“What?” Alistair queried.

“Our scouts report that she’s planning on reclaiming the crown, your Majesty! She says that you’re too incompetent to rule a nation, given that you can’t even bring Highever to heel. She’s amassed a great number of soldiers willing to follow her from Gwaren to see you both destroyed!” Galen spoke quickly.

“We can’t let her gain a foothold, Corban. We _must_ put a stop to her before she gains momentum.” Alistair retorted.

“Begging your pardon, your Majesty, but _how_? Galen asked.

“We prepare our forces and meet her on the field.” Alaren replied, looking briefly from her advisor to the King.

“Our forces might not fight alongside one another, my Lady. His Majesty’s men feel Highever has betrayed the crown.” Corban stated, looking from her to Alistair.

“And our own men won’t obey orders from the King, my Lady.” Galen added. “There’s only one thing we can do to make them work together.”

“And what might that be?” Alaren asked sharply.

“Well, uh...” Corban began.

“Well what?” Alistair responded.

“The soldiers wouldn’t refuse an order from either party if, uh...” Galen stammered. “If an _alliance_ was made between the crown and Highever.”

“You mean we sign a declaration of peace with the King.” Alaren stated.

“Not _exactly_ , my Lady...” Corban started nervously.

“Then what?” Alistair asked, his tone growing impatient.

“Anora’s forces might _dispute_ a treaty like that, claiming it was only written in the face of war... If there was a more... _permanent_ alliance between our peoples...” Galen began.

“Spit it out, Galen.” Alaren stated firmly.

“You need to marry the King, my Lady.” he blurted quickly.

“What? Not a chance!” she retorted harshly.

“It’s the only way to assure our soldiers that there will be more than a declaration of peace, to prove to them that our alliance is _permanent_.” Corban stated.

“It truly is the only way, Alaren.” Galen offered gently.

“Don’t _I_ get a say in this?” Alistair asked.

“Not if you wish to keep your crown, my Lord. Anora seeks to destroy us all. Our men won’t stand together if they don’t believe there can _truly_ be peace between us.” Corban replied solemnly.

Looking from the advisors to Alistair, she saw his jaw clench in determination. Furrowing her brow as he nodded his head in understanding, she let out a frustrated sigh.

“There really _is_ no other way?” she asked, meeting Galen’s eyes.

“No, my Lady. I have sought other solutions upon my return to Highever. This is our only option. Anora means to take Highever _and_ the crown at any cost.” the man replied softly.

Feeling her heart sink, she knew the man was right. To prove to the nation that Highever and the crown were indeed allies, she would have to marry the King. They wouldn’t likely believe them such otherwise. Marriages were often arranged to secure the allegiance of a potential enemy, providing the parties that assistance would come whenever it was called upon. Gritting her teeth, she slowly nodded her head. Hearing the sigh of relief both advisors let out, she knew they’d been hoping she and Alistair would agree. Anora was a persuasive woman, capable of charming the people to suit her whims. The army she had put together would fight for her to the end.

“Let’s get this over with. Make preparations for tomorrow so we can return our attention to the battle before us.” she said, looking from the two men to Alistair. “At least he’s not unpleasant to look at...”

“Right away, my Lady.” Galen said, rushing from the room.

“The seamstresses might not have time to create a suitable dress, my Lady.” Corban began.

“No dress. I’ll wear formal armor.” she retorted.

“With all due respect, Teyrna Cousland... You’re to become a Queen. The people of Ferelden will need to see you’re not just a warrior seeking a position at the King’s side.” Corban offered.

“Unfortunately, he’s right. Armor would give the impression that you’re _forcing_ me to marry you, rather than this being an alliance of necessity.” Alistair replied. “Besides. Don’t _all_ young women wish to look pretty on their wedding day?”

“I’m _not_ ‘all women’...”

“So I’ve noticed.” he chuckled, watching Corban leaving the room. “Which is a good thing, because ‘normal’ people are boring. Diversity is the spice of life, and it’s something I rather enjoy.”

Stepping back before he could kiss her again, she met his eyes as he continued.

“You know they’re going to expect us to...”

“Don’t... Just...” she said, placing her hand up to signal him to stop. 

Seeing the look he gave her, she felt her stomach tighten. She couldn’t say she wasn’t _attracted_ to him, quite the _opposite_ , if she were to be honest with herself. Still, the thought of being forced to marry where she didn’t love the man sat poorly with her. Her parents had always said that she would marry for love, but now, she was being tied to a man she could barely tolerate. 

Stepping out of the room, she walked quickly to the training field so that she might speak with Urek. Giving him the warning passed to her by Galen and the King’s man, she knew he would ensure the guards and soldiers were made ready to defend Highever. Seeing the way he met her eyes, she cleared her through and looked to the ground.

“There’s more you’re not telling me. What is it, my friend?” he asked in his deep voice.

“I... in order to secure an alliance with the King’s men so that we may stand united against Anora’s forces, I... Ugh, I need to marry the King.” she replied, looking up at him.

“Can the soldiers not work in harmony together without such extreme measures?”

“I know _our_ men would put aside their differences if I asked it of them, but the King’s men will not. This is the only way... Aside from that, Anora seeks to destroy Highever, no matter the troops we have in her defense. With the King’s men, our army matches hers. Hopefully, we can convince some of her soldiers to defect to our cause...”

“I’ll prepare the castle and assign patrols outside of her gates. The villagers will need to be made aware as well, so that they can take refuge in the keep itself, should the woman make it this far north. We’ll need to obtain extra provisions, perhaps your dwarven friend in Kirkwall can assist with that.”

“I’ll send word. Make out a list of any supplies you require and I’ll send it to Varric. With luck, he can have those supplies shipped to us before Anora reaches the heart of the Bannorn...”

Returning the salute he gave her, she turned back towards the castle and went to help with the preparations for her wedding. There would need to be food for a feast, and the hall would have to be decorated for the celebration. Wine would need to be brought up from the cellars, and ale chilled for those that preferred it. Making her way to her room once all was arranged, she flopped down on her bed. Tomorrow, she would be required to _share_ that bed with the King, something she both was and wasn’t looking forward to. She’d only ever been with Syn, and he’d shown her the depths of passion and all the joys it brought. She hoped the King would be as considerate of her needs as well, though she doubted it. Most men didn’t take into account a woman’s passion, tending solely to their own instead. 

Sighing, she peeled off her clothes for the night and crawled into bed. At least being forced to marry the man would bring _some_ consolation... She would at least be able to feel his powerful body in the flesh, as opposed to the limits of her imagination while she slept...


	6. A Marriage Of Inconvenience

Waking to an insistent knock at her door, Alaren rolled out of bed and pulled on her robe. Crossing the floor, she opened it find Galen standing there with the seamstress. Her mother’s wedding dress had been draped over one of the woman’s arms, while a basket of sewing items hung from the other. Looking to her friend, she noticed that he carried a tray of food for her to break her fast. Allowing them both in, she made her way to the table as though to sit while she ate, only to have the woman pull her behind the dressing screen. Sighing, she accepted the piece of sweet bread Galen passed her from over the top, biting into it hungrily.

“I assume you’re going to let me _bathe_ before I’m confined to this dress.” she said, looking to the seamstress.

“Of course, my Lady. I just need to see what adjustments need to be made so that I can get it ready for you.” the woman responded.

Sighing once again, she watched as the woman buzzed around her like a honey bee as she worked. The dress would need a fair amount of tailoring, as she was slightly taller than her mother. The bust was too small however, as her breasts were measurably larger than her mother’s had been. The bodice was almost too tight for her, and she wondered if the seamstress would be able to do anything to fix it.

“Maker’s breath, I don’t know how I’m going to stay _in_ this blasted thing... If I’m unlucky, the entire _procession_ will see what’s normally under my armor here.” she groused, trying her best to tuck herself into the garment.

“You look lovely though, Alaren. Just as I imagined your mother did on _her_ wedding day.” Galen replied, smiling fondly at her.

Seeing the sadness in his eyes, she felt it echoing in her heart.

“I wish they both could be here...” she said softly. “Galen, would you take my father’s place and give me to the bastard King?” she asked.

“I would be honored, my Lady. Urek has requested a place at your side as well, to make certain you’re well guarded during this ceremony, I would assume.”

“He’s a good man... Tell him it would please me greatly to have him there as well.”

“I shall, my friend. Now, I’ll leave you two be so that you might be made ready for this afternoon. I’m certain there will be someone along to tend to your hair at some point, as it needs to be as regal as you yourself are.” the man smiled.

Watching him disappear through the door, she looked down at the seamstress. She was taller than her mother by at least three inches, which would make tailoring the dress to fit her frame difficult. Seeing the frustration marring the woman’s brow, she bent down to meet her eyes.

“There’s nothing to be done for the length that won’t look off, my Lady...” the woman sighed in frustration.

“Then don’t try to _add_ length... Why not take some _away_?” Alaren replied.

“Make the dress _shorter_ , my Lady?”

“Why not? I’m no shy and innocent maiden, and I would prefer not to trip over the damned thing while making my way to a man I’ve no desire to be wed to.”

“That simply won’t do, my Lady. You are to become his Queen today, you _must_ look the part.”

“A role I’ve no desire to _take_. I never _wanted_ to...”

“I have an idea, my Lady. Take the dress off and go find your bath. I’ll return as soon as I’m finished.” the woman interrupted.

Sighing, she knew that she was stuck with whatever the seamstress came up with, and only hoped it wasn’t too outlandish. She was a woman of simplicity, preferring her clothing to be functional, as opposed to formal. Slipping behind the screen, she pulled the dress off and hung it over the top. Taking up her robe, she tied it around her lean frame and emerged once again. The woman was already racing from the room, having gathered her basket of sewing items, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Looking to the food Galen had left for her, she knew she’d best start eating now, as there was no telling when she’d be able to do so next.

Having only just finished her meal when she heard another knock at her door, she opened it to find several of her handmaidens beaming up at her. She knew they’d been waiting for this moment for some time, and groaned when they pressed their way into her chambers. Bolting the door behind the last one, she barely had time to acknowledge their presence before she was being dropped into a hot bath with scented oils. The girls wasted no time in pampering her, seeing that her golden hair gleamed brilliantly in the light, and her skin glimmered with a light pearlescent sheen. 

Once that was finished, they turned their attention to her eyes. They were shaped much like that of an elf, hinting that there might have been some of the blood in her family at some point. She did her best to hold still while they applied a liner and a little shadow, only enough to make her eyes stand out. Looking to the door as the seamstress entered some time later, she found herself marveling at the changes she’d made to her mother’s dress.

The length of the gown had been altered by adding delicate lace at the hem and swathed in layers of shimmering pale blue gauze. More lace lined the top of the bodice, and leafy vines and jewels sprouted from the crest to line the front. A collar of fine silk made of the same pale blue material of the gown was linked to the dress through draping chains of silver, sapphire and moonstone. A crescent moon held them together at the back, resting just above the ties of the corset. A deep blue sash was secured at the front with another silver crescent moon, adorned with the same sapphires and moonstone. Still more silver chains followed the fabric of the sash to just above the hem, tying the whole thing together.

Staring in surprise at all the seamstress had accomplished in the few short hours since her departure, she felt her heart beating in her ears. It was more beautiful than she could have ever dreamed. If she were honest with herself, it was what she’d hoped her dress would have looked like as a young girl. Letting the woman take her behind the screen once again, she moved as directed to get the gown on. Once she’d finished, she claimed the seat before her vanity to let her handmaidens add the final touches to her hair. Looking at herself in the mirror, she realized that she looked every part the Queen she was about to become.

“You look fantastic, my Lady. Like something out of a vision.” the one girl said, tears slipping from her deep brown eyes.

Grinning return, Alaren found it too difficult to put into words all that she was feeling just then. Looking to the door as Galen entered, she saw the stunned surprise cross his face as he stared at her. Taking his hand as he walked towards her, she leaned over slightly to give him the hug he wished of her. Stepping back as he let her go, she tried her best to keep from crying tears of joy.

“I know this isn’t the man you wish to marry, but I know you will make this country a wonderful Queen, Alaren.” Galen smiled.

“I hope so...” she replied.

“It’s time, my Lady.”

Taking the arm he offered, Alaren walked with him down to the chapel. There were more people there than she’d anticipated; nobles from the Bannorn who were under Highever’s protection filled the seats. Spotting Urek in his best armor, she offered him a brilliant smile. He saluted proudly before falling into step opposite Galen, walking her towards a man she truly knew nothing about. Meeting Alistair’s eyes as he turned to face her, she saw the look of awe he wore. It was obvious by his stunned expression that he hadn’t expected her to be as radiant as she was, though the smile that followed proved he was more than pleased to be shown wrong.

“King Alistair of Ferelden. I present to you the Lady Alaren Cousland, Teyrna of Highever and governess to all the Arlings and Bannorn she has sworn to protect, to be your wife and Queen.” Galen stated, passing her hand to Alistair’s. “By receiving her now, you swear to be faithful and true; as her husband, her ally and her King.”

“I accept and receive her gladly.” he replied, looking from Galen to meet her teal eyes.

“Then I give you leave to proceed.” Galen smiled, stepping back from her.

“Good people of Highever... We stand before you today to celebrate the union of our home with that of the crown. Alistair Theirin, last of Calenhad’s bloodline and King of Ferelden, do you take this woman to be your wife, swearing fealty to her and to Highever, granting her equality in all your lands and title, as your partner in all your dealings, and as that of a faithful husband, sharing your bed with none save her, from this day forward?” the revered mother asked.

“I do.” he said, standing proudly before the woman.

“And do you, Lady Alaren Cousland, Teyrna of Highever and governess of all her territories, take this man to be your husband, swearing fealty to his throne and all Ferelden, granting him equality in all your lands, partner in all your dealings, and as that of a faithful wife, sharing your bed with none save him, from this day forward?”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she knew she couldn’t back down. She felt her heart pounding in her chest, as though offering its own defiance at what it was she was about to do.

“I do.” she replied, swallowing hard again.

“Then I pronounce you husband and wife. By your leave, your Majesty, you may kiss your new bride.”

Feeling his lips come over hers, she thought her blood might sear her to the core. There was need in his kiss, one long suppressed from years of him being a bachelor. It made her knees tremble slightly, something she quickly concealed from the eyes that now rest on the pair of them. Pulling away slowly, she saw the warm smile he gave her. Returning it slowly, she then turned to face the crowds filling the seats in the chapel.

“People of Ferelden, I present you now with King Alistair and Queen Alaren. Long may they reign.”

Hearing the men and women echoing the priestess’ words, she walked numbly down the aisle. It was done, she was now the Queen of Ferelden. Making her way to the dining hall, she saw the feast had already been laid out, and their seats prepared. Flowers and ribbons decorated their chairs and lined the walls, bringing the elements of spring inside the keep. It was lovely, and the fresh rushes scented the room with their fragrance. Claiming her seat, she had to remind herself that she was supposed to allow Alistair to push her closer to the table. Thanking him once he sat beside her, she looked to those that were now filling the hall.

Thanking the servants for preparing the feast, she smiled over at Urek as he came to join them at their table. It was customary for the Guard Captain to sit beside her, a custom she wasn’t about to change. Nodding to Galen and Corban as they proceeded to take the seats on their sides, she then turned her attention to the food that was brought out. It had been some time since Highever had found cause to celebrate, and this opportunity wasn’t about to pass them by. The people who worked the kitchens had been wanting to cook more than simple battle rations, and now they could.

Staying as long as her presence was required, Alaren was all too happy to make the escape to her chambers when the opportunity presented itself. Nearly hitting Alistair with the door in her attempt to close it, she chided herself for not remembering that she would be sharing her room with him from now on. Making her way to the dressing screen, she carefully worked the ties free from the dress and let it pool at her feet. Pulling on a pair of soft leather pants, she then slipped on a lightweight tunic before reemerging. Seeing Alistair sitting on the trunk at the foot of her bed, she felt her mouth go dry.

“You looked lovely tonight, Alaren.” he said, offering her a warm smile.

“Thanks, so did you.” she replied.

“Well, I couldn’t find a dress that would match my eyes, so I had to improvise. Glad you approved.” he chuckled.

“You’re strange, you know that?”

“You’re not the first person to tell me that, and I doubt you’ll be the last.” he grinned.

Shaking her head at him, she turned for the balcony and opened the doors. Stepping out into the cool night air, she let it caress her neck and lift her hair where it had come free of its bindings. Glancing at Alistair as he came to stand beside her, she felt her belly tighten at his presence. Swallowing the nervousness she was suddenly feeling, she let her eyes roam to the tree in the garden below.

“I was betrothed once, before my love and I met.” she began softly.

“What happened?”

“He was killed at Ostagar, at the start of the Blight.” she replied, furrowing her brow as the memory came to mind.

“What was his name? I might have known him.”

“Oh, you _definitely_ knew him. The whole _country_ knew him... He was your brother...”

“What?”

“Before marching south, Cailan came to speak with my father. He was going to cast Anora off, since she was unable to give him an heir. He’d seen me at court shortly before agreeing to Eamon’s suggestion to do so with the woman, and decided I would be the one to replace her. He wanted a Queen who was every bit the warrior that he himself was; a woman who would be passionate both on the field as well as in his bed. It wasn’t a prospect I wanted to consider, but I would do as my parents asked. We were to be married upon his return...” she said, turning to face him. 

“We obviously know what happened to prevent that...” Alistair replied, letting out a soft sigh.

“I didn’t want to marry, not for station. I always hoped it would be for love... Then Howe’s men attacked, and my only thought was to just survive. I lost my family that night... everyone I cared about up to that point. I felt the need to honor their request and go to the King’s side. I received word later that Cailan had been killed in battle when Loghain turned his forces and left him on the field to the darkspawn. He’d done so because of what Cailan was planning to do with his daughter, no doubt. He told us that Eamon wanted him to marry Empress Celene, to forge an alliance with Orlais that couldn’t be broken. Cailan didn’t approve of that idea, preferring to take his Queen from his own country. Thus, I was his intended...”

“I’d heard that he was looking to put Anora aside, but I thought it was nothing more than rumor.” Alistair said, resting his back against the balcony rail.

“It wasn’t a rumor. I didn’t want to be his Queen though, I was happy just being the second child of a Teyrn. It wasn’t that I didn’t want the responsibility, I was brought up to accept it should anything happen to Fergus or his family. I was just content with my role as the younger sibling to the future Teyrn. Now, after all that’s happened, I’ve still become the Queen of Ferelden...”

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t want to be King. I knew Maric was my father, but he already _had_ his heir when I came along. Cailan was the golden boy that everyone loved. No one _expected_ him to go riding off, chasing the glory of battle in a fight he couldn’t win. When he died... I still didn’t want to be King. I was happy just being a Grey Warden. It was the Hero of Ferelden... _Shaari_... who decided my fate, though I can’t imagine why she thought I’d be a better King than Anora was as Queen.”

“She knew how important you are to your people. The Theirin bloodline has ruled the country for more than four hundred years, since King Calenhad, the Silver Knight, fought against the elves in the Exalted March of the Dales. It was to preserve the legacy that your ancestors fought to establish, from then until now. Aside from betraying her, you’ve done well in the role.”

“I’m glad _someone_ thinks so.”

“Apart from letting Highever stand alone to face her enemies, I do.”

“I still intend to figure out what happened, Alaren. I didn’t abandon you knowingly.”

Meeting his eyes as he trailed a finger lightly over her cheek and jaw, she saw the sincerity there. Closing her eyes as his lips came softly over hers, she felt the tenderness in his kiss that asked nothing of her, yet promised fulfilment should she wish it. Looking up at him as he slowly pulled away, she felt her blood boiling hot in her veins. Lacing her arms around her neck, she pulled him close for another heated kiss.

Unable to control her passion, she tugged at the hem of Alistair’s shirt, pulling it quickly over his head and tossing it aside. One of his hands slid up under her tunic, finding the taut mound of her breast and cupping it firmly. Moaning as his calloused palm rubbed the pert nipple, she let her own hands find their way over the hardened planes of his back, and down to his posterior. His body was toned, and she wanted to explore every inch of it. Feeling the chill air on her skin as she too was vested of her shirt, she pressed her body to his. Working the belt at his waist, she soon had his manhood free of his trousers. Feeling him swell in her hand, she realized that he was every bit as endowed as Syn was.

Moaning as he lifted her against him, she wrapped her legs around his waist, feeling him all the way to her core. Kissing him hotly as he carried her to her bed, she whimpered as he tugged her leather pants off, casting them aside. Gripping his rear as he came over her, she felt her heart beating heavily in her chest as he neared her entrance. Gasping in surprise as he filled her, she brought one of her shapely legs up over his back, granting him greater access to her heated center. Letting him bring her other leg over his shoulder, she held him as tightly as she could, her body begging for a release she’d not felt in some time.

His thrusting was hard and fast, something that made her hotter than she’d imagined he could do. Rocking herself against him, she soon felt the tightening in her belly that signaled her pending orgasm. Biting down on his shoulder, she gave herself over to the release his body was asking of her. His shaft was hard within her, feeling much like an iron rod covered in velvety soft skin. Digging her nails into his back as she peaked again, she cried out as she toppled over the edge.

“That’s it, Alaren... cum for me... Bathe me with your sweet release...” Alistair panted, grinding his hips against hers.

“I can’t stop... I’m going to cum again...” she whimpered, holding him tightly against her. “Alistair... I want to feel your seed rush into me... Oh, please...” she begged.

“As you wish...” he growled, biting her neck.

Gripping him tightly, she felt his thrusting become more determined before his seed burst suddenly into her. Crying out as his sudden eruption brought her to another release, she gasped desperately for air. Feeling him hold her tight as he rolled onto his back, she moaned as his hands gripped her hips and bade her thrust herself against him.

“Ride me, Alaren... Let me feel your passion as it breaks over you... I want to watch you cum for me...” he panted.

Unable to deny him, she rocked against his body, driving his hard shaft deeper within her with each delicious stroke. He thrust against her in perfect harmony, bringing greater joy and satisfaction than she could have done by herself. Gasping as he sat up to capture her breast with his lips, she whimpered as his teeth nipped at the hardened pebble her nipple had become. Moaning as his hand slipped between them, she felt the calloused pad of his thumb toy with the tiny bud her soft petals concealed. Keening as she felt her body tighten, she lost herself to the powerful orgasm that stole her breath.

“Yes... Oh, yes!” she cried, savoring each wave that crashed over her.

“Ride my hard cock, Alaren... Take all the pleasure it can bring you...” he growled, bringing her body hard against his as he thrust deeper within her.

“Yes... Oh, Alistair... I’m going to cum again... Cum with me! Oh, please... Cum with me now!” she begged, feeling her body tingling with anticipation.

“Yes... I’m going to cum... Oh, yeah.. By the Maker!” he roared, polling her beneath him as he drove himself to another powerful orgasm.

Gripping him tightly against her, she whimpered as his seed rushed hot into her waiting core. Gasping as he thrust one last time, she thought she’d explode from the sheer heat of it all. Panting as she held him, she felt his body trembling beneath her palms. Leaning up to kiss him, she moaned as he thrust within her, expelling the last of his pent up desire in the remaining seed that spewed forth. Hissing as he slowly withdrew, she felt a measure of surprise as he pulled her close, holding her in his arms while his heart beat erratically beneath her ear.

“Maker’s breath...” he panted, sweat glistening on their bodies in the soft firelight. “That was... _incredible_ ”

“You’re not what I expected either...” she sighed, snuggling close.

“What’s that supposed to me?” he asked, looking at her as she sat up on her elbows.

“Most men are concerned only about their own desires, not the woman’s.” she replied, meeting his eyes gently.

“I’m not most men.” he smirked.

“And glad I am for it.” she grinned, leaning down to kiss him softly.

Resting back in his arms, she listened to his heartbeat slow as he drifted off to sleep. Pulling the blankets over them, she took comfort in the knowledge that she would at least receive the same pleasure from her partner that he took from her. It was a small consolation however, as she’d never wished to marry for duty. She’d always hoped she’d love the man she joined with, spending her days with him and the family she’d wished for. This... This was merely a marriage of convenience. At least the sex would be good, if what they’d just shared was any indication, and they made a good pair visually as well. Sighing with exhaustion, she closed her eyes and let sleep claim her weary soul...


	7. Chapter 7

Waking in the early hours of the following morning to Alistair’s passion, she shared herself fully with him. Lying breathless in his arms some time later, she knew they would soon have to address the courts as well as her forces. Feeling his fingers trail lazily over her hip and side, she wondered what was on his mind.

“They’re going to expect heirs... One for Ferelden’s title, and one for your own...” he said softly. “Being a former Grey Warden... that might be difficult at best. All the Wardens I knew who had families had done so before joining...”

“That complicates matters further, doesn’t it.” she said, rolling from the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

Moving toward the crackling fire, she wrapped her arms around her protectively. Her heart ached with the pain her memories brought, and the lump that formed in her throat felt as though it was trying to strangle her. Drawing in a steadying breath, she knew she had to answer him.

“Two years ago, I held my love as he died in my arms. He’d been badly wounded by Gaspard’s men when they invaded, and while we repelled the forces and sent them back to Orlais, it wasn’t without great cost...” she began.

Seeing him move to the other side of the hearth, she swallowed the pain and continued.

“I was devastated. It wasn’t until after Syn had been laid to rest that I learned I carried his child. It was the first time I’d been happy since losing him weeks before... But... there were complications. I eventually became bedridden with illness. The babe... came too soon. He was so small, not even five pounds... He had his father’s raven hair and icy blue eyes, but my pale skin. He died in my arms not ten minutes after he was born. My soul was crushed... I desperately tried to will him back to life and when that failed, I wanted only to join him in death. He was the last link to the love and happiness I’d had, and I didn’t want to be apart from him...

I woke several days later, weak as a newborn kitten. It wore me out just to open my eyes... I’d nearly died from blood loss... The healers honestly didn’t expect me to live. As the days passed and I grew stronger, they tried desperately to heal all that had been damaged when my son was born. In the end, they agreed that it might not be possible for me to carry another child... They don’t think my body could handle it...” she finished softly, tears slipping from her reddened eyes.

“I... I’m so sorry...” Alistair replied, moving to take her into his arms.

“I wanted nothing more than to watch my son grow into the kind of man his father was... but the Maker took him from me too.” she wept.

“Did he have a name?”

“Xander... Xander Callion. His father was a farm hand turned warrior durring the Blight. He kept Highever supplied with food through each battle we faced. He didn’t _want_ to love me, as he didn’t want the people to think he came to my side only for my title. In the end, we were inseparable...”

“He sounds like a wonderful person...”

“He was...”

She wasn’t sure how long they stood there, only that the silence between them spoke words their voices couldn’t utter. Furrowing her brow as he began to speak, she listened as he relayed his own tale of heartbreak.

“I met Shaaria at the start of the fifth Blight. She was a recently Harrowed mage from the Ferelden Circle, brought to Ostagar by Duncan at the request of the First Enchanter to become a Grey Warden. I was attracted to her at once, though I was too awkward to know how to approach her. She was a Dalish elf that had been taken to the Circle early in life, and excelled at magic far greater than any of the other apprentices her age. When I first saw her, I thought she was a vision. She had white hair and eyes much like your own. There was tension between us from the start though, as she was a mage and I a Templar, well _almost_ a Templar...

When Loghain quit the field, he blamed the death of King Cailan on the Grey Wardens, claiming he was lured to war by the promise of grandeur. It wasn’t true of course, but the people initially believed it. Shaaria worked tirelessly to change their minds, proving to the people that it was, in fact, Loghain’s fault the country had lost her King. When we finally called the Landsmeet, Loghain sought to seize complete control, naming himself as King. She fought him in single combat though, with the fate of the nation resting on the victor. When Loghain surrendered and she allowed me to decide what was to become of him, I was all too happy to exact revenge for all the Wardens we’d lost. _Especially_ for Duncan. He was from Highever, actually. He was...”

“Syn’s father. He was just a young boy when Duncan left for the Wardens, and Duncan himself a young man of no more than twenty...” she finished.

“I had no idea... He rarely spoke of himself...”

“I met him when I was younger... He was a good man.”

“He really was... So when I had the chance, I took Loghain’s head happily. I wasn’t expecting Shaaria to then make me King. I betrayed her when I told her we couldn’t be together anymore... Something that I regret to this day. I was afraid of what people thought of me already, and knew how they would react to having an elven mage as their Queen. The days leading up to the final battle against the Archdemon, I realized what an ass I’d been and wanted to make amends. I didn’t want to live without her. She kept to herself though, staying in Leliana’s tent rather than her own. She wouldn’t even talk to anyone, really. When we went to face the Archdemon... She blasted me with an ice spell, took my sword and rushed toward it before I could regain my feet. The Archdemon... stole her soul. I couldn’t save her, no matter how much I wanted to. All I could do was give her a traditional Dalish burial...” he finished, sorrow filling his tone.

“I’m sorry... Maybe the Maker had a reason for our losses... I’d like to believe it, but...”

“Maybe it was to bring us together...” Alistair said, tilting her head up to meet her eyes. 

Closing her eyes as his lips came over hers, she felt his loss as keenly as her own. There was nothing between them in that moment save truth, something they could actually build a foundation on, if they tried. Letting him lift her into his arms and carry her to the bed, she rest back on her pillows as he came over her. Sharing herself with him was different this time; there was a burning desire, but it was tender, something she hadn’t felt since her last night with Syn. When their shared release broke over them, it was more powerful than those they’d had both earlier that morning as well as the previous night.

Sighing as he rest his forehead against hers, she wondered if would always be like this between them. The tenderness was touching, and she felt tears come unbidden to her eyes. Blinking them away, she saw the soft smile he gave her. Kissing him sweetly, she heard a sudden commotion in the hall outside her room. Before either of them had a chance to cover up, her door burst open to reveal some of the men who’d come to negotiate Alistair’s release arguing with her own guards. Pulling the sheet over her quickly as Alistair burst to his feet and grabbed her robe, she sat up to watch the scene unfold before her.

“Stand down, savage! We _must_ inspect the sheets to ensure the marriage was consummated!” the man snapped, turning to face the room before him.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Alistair growled, blocking the man’s view of the room behind him.

“Your Majesty! Forgive the intrusion, but we must check the Teyrna’s sheets for...”

“So you barge in here unannounced and unwelcome? You aren’t getting anywhere _near_ Alaren, _or_ our bed!”

“But your Majesty...”

Offering Urek a small smile as he moved to stand behind Alistair, Alaren quickly wrapped the sheet around her lean form and moved toward her dressing screen. Her cheeks were a brilliant red, the blush coloring them at being seen in such a vulnerable predicament.

“But _nothing_! You’ve no business being here, now get out!”

“I need to make certain you’ve taken the Lady’s...”

“That’s none of your _business_! Leave at once or I’ll have this large, angry man behind me take your head. The Teyrna... my _Queen_... is _not_ a thing you can gawk at or a person you can bend to your will! She is _not_ property, and I’ll not have you _treat_ her as such!” Alistair roared.

Peeking out from behind the screen, she had to stifle the giggle that tried to escape her throat. Alistair was fuming at his men while wearing nothing but her robe, the silken Highever weave barely coming to mid thigh on the man. It was _clearly_ a woman’s article of clothing, as the delicate golden swirls and lace weren’t typically something found on a garment a man would wear. If that wasn’t enough, the little embroidered emblems of her home would certainly reveal to whom the raiment belonged. Seeing the man staring as though he’d never been addressed in such a manner, she felt a small smile cross her face.

“You there...” Alistair said, turning to the Guard Captain.

“Urek...” he responded.

“Urek... Would you please be so kind and remove this man from the Lady’s chambers?”

“It would be my _pleasure_.” Urek growled.

Watching him lift the man bodily from his spot, she finished pulling on her clothes before stepping out from around the screen. Making her way towards Alistair, she found she respected him more for his taking a stance in her defense. Offering him a small smile, she kissed him sweetly.

“Thank you...” she said.

“You’re surprised?”

“Pleasantly so, yes. I didn’t expect... I mean, I _should_ have...”

“He had no business coming to your chambers unannounced. Hopefully, it’ll be a lesson he’ll never repeat.” Alistair replied. “Your man, Urek... What do you think he’ll do to him?”

“Did you specifically _tell_ him to do anything to the man?”

“No, but I’ve known Qunari before. Well, at least _one_ Qunari. He fought at our side during the Blight. He wasn’t happy with me for how things ended, and left Ferelden shortly after.”

“I met him, actually. He came here to catch a ship headed for Seheron. He didn’t like Urek, called him something nasty in his native tongue. Urek just arched a brow at him though.”

“You met Sten?” Alistair asked, moving to gather his hastily discarded clothing.

“He was nice enough to me, quite the gentle giant. It isn’t a common trait among his people, from what I understand. Apparently, they don’t think women have a place on the battlefield.”

“He learned that women can be amazing fighters from Shaaria. She changed a lot of his misconceptions about women, actually.” Alistair smiled, pulling his shirt over his head. “What about your man Urek? How did he end up here?”

“Highever is a home for those that are shunned in other places. Everyone is treated as equals here, no matter their race or gender. Urek’s family worked on the coast as fishermen, sailing out every night and returning each morning with their catch. Urek wasn’t much for the water, so operated their store. It wasn’t the life he wanted, really. When Howe’s men attacked, he helped keep Highever from falling to the bastard. Without him here, Maker _knows_ what would have happened. After the Blight, he stayed on as my personal body guard, and then as Guard Captain. I’d be lost without him... _literally_. He was at my side during each invasion, and helped me keep my home when others sought to take it from me.” she smiled.

“He sounds like someone I don’t want to cross.” Alistair chuckled.

“A wise observation on your part.” she laughed.

“It’s been known to happen on occasion.”

Shaking her head, she quickly brushed out her hair before securing it back and donning her armor. Seeing the curious look he gave her, she explained it was something she did out of habit anymore. Strapping her father’s sword to her side, she waited for him to finish dressing before making her way to the dining hall with him. She was ravenous after the previous night’s excursions, and wanted nothing more than to satisfy another hunger she had. Spotting Urek as they made their way down the stairs, she returned the salute he gave her before he turned to walk beside her.

A small crowd had gathered in the dining hall and upon seeing them, gave a welcoming cheer. It was obvious the men and women were relieved that peace had been reached between Highever and the crown, as neither side wanted to see the battle continue. Claiming her seat at the high table, she offered both Alistair and Urek a smile as they sat on opposite sides. Thanking the serving girl for her breakfast, she ate eagerly while listening to the conversations in the hall. Most were talking about the new found peace between them, sharing stories from previous battles they’d lived through and showing a few of their scars.

Finishing her breakfast, she made her way to the training field with both Alistair and Urek at her sides. Waiting until the troops had fallen into formation and were silent, she stepped forward to address them.

“My Lady, you should defer to your husband the King in this matter...” Corban said, moving up beside her.

“I defer to _no_ man, King or _otherwise_.” she replied firmly. “Titles should be _earned_ , not given away like candy, and I’ve _earned_ mine time and again.”

“Stand down, Corban. She’s right in this. Besides. These are mostly _her_ men, not mine. She should be the one to address them.” Alistair smiled, meeting her eyes.

Returning the gesture, she could easily see him becoming annoying as he continued to try and earn her respect. Clearing her throat, she turned her attention back to the soldiers and the men they commanded.

“I bid you all good morning and thank you for assembling. As some of you may know, the King and I were married yesterday, forming an alliance between our people and our forces. While some of you have already had contentions with our new allies, I ask that you try to look beyond your differences and join us in the conflict we are soon to face.” she began, walking before the men and women. “We face a common enemy. Anora Mac Tir, former Queen of Ferelden, has declared war against both Highever and the crown. She’s assembled an army almost as great as our own, and marches forth to try and reclaim that which she has lost. Only together can we defeat her, and defeat her we shall. Can I count on each of you to stand the field to fight our foe for the safety of all that we hold dear?”

Hearing the troops shout out their positive replies, she then looked to Alistair. Motioning to him that he may address her forces, she offered him a small smile.

“Why should we trust the man to keep his word, my Lady?” came a small voice from the back of the formation.

“Step forward, soldier.” she answered, waiting for the young man to appear.

Looking him over, she could tell he was not much older than fifteen or sixteen. It pained her to see such a young man standing at arms for his home, but knew he wasn’t so different from herself at that age. 

“Forgive me, my Lady, as I wish no offense to you. I merely need to know that he won’t turn tail and run when our forces need him most.” the man said gently. “How can you be sure he’ll stay the field with the rest of us?”

“Breaking his pact with us would mean an act of war, something he is keen to avoid, especially given the circumstances. He will remain at our side as we march against the traitor. If he abandons us, I will personally hunt him down and claim his head for my wall.”

Offering Alistair a small smile, she watched as he shifted uncomfortably before clearing his throat.

“I know you don’t think much of me, but you have my word that I will not back down from the fight we go to face. Anora is as much my enemy as she is yours, perhaps moreso. I took the throne from her, and she seeks revenge. She is the daughter of Loghain Mac Tir, a man proven to be a traitor to this country, and one who has since chosen to follow in her father’s footsteps. I ask you to work together to bring her and her forces down, not as your King, but as one who fights for what he loves as much as you do. I will stand the field with you, not over you, and fight readily at your side.” Alistair stated, looking out over the troops.

“Why should we believe you? You’ve left Highever to stand by herself on more than one occasion, what’s to keep you from doing so now?” one of the generals asked.

“Because I want to keep my head.” he smirked, glancing over at Alaren. “And I never received word that Highever needed help, something I’m looking into as we speak.”

“For now, I ask that you trust him. We have too much to do to worry about such things, and the sooner we get to them, the sooner we can march against the traitor. Urek? Please see them in top form.” Alaren smiled, looking up at her Guard Captain.

“As you wish, my Lady.” he replied, saluting her.

“You want us to work with an oxman?” one of Alistair’s men challenged.

“You have a problem with that?” Alaren asked, meeting the man’s eyes.

“He’s a _savage_ What if he _turns_ on us in battle?”

“I trust him more than I trust the lot of you _combined_. Urek has served in Highever for _years_ , and has faced every battle with fierce loyalty since the fifth Blight. He is my Guard Captain. If you have issue with him, then you have issue with me. If you wish to _challenge_ my decision, step forward and meet me in combat. The victor will have the say as to who should lead you in this battle.” Alaren stated firmly, hand resting on her sword in case the man accepted her challenge.

Watching as the man lowered his eyes, she knew he’d been silenced for the time being. To go against her would mean his death, as she was now his Queen. Nodding to Urek, she smiled as he stepped forward. Listening as he began instructing the men and women before him, Alaren knew they were in good hands. Looking to Alistair, she turned for the Keep and made her way inside.

“I need to test your skill. You’ve been on the throne some time now, I need to know you’ve not gone soft.” she said, turning for the armory.

“You _do_ know I fought in the fifth Blight, right?” he replied, keeping pace with her.

“Five years ago, yes. I doubt you’ve had much opportunity to do so since, as the people wouldn’t want to risk losing the last of the Theirin bloodline. If you’re going to be on the field at my side, I need to know you can still handle a blade.”

Waiting for the guard to open the door, she stepped inside and searched for suitable weapons and armor for Alistair to use. Waiting until he’d gotten everything on, she then led him through the keep to her private training ground. She usually only worked with Urek there, as she wanted to keep her focus on what they were doing, rather than the crowds that would gather around them. For reasons she couldn’t understand, her people liked to watch as she battled against her Qunari Guard Captain, often making wagers as to who the victor might be that day. Some days, she would best him and on others, he would stand in triumph over her. Today however, she needed to test the skill of the King, and didn’t want anyone witnessing his ability or lack thereof. They needed to know that he was capable on the field, and if he wasn’t she didn’t want anyone to know. Holding her weapons at the ready, she waited for him to attack.


End file.
